Sweet Revenge thriller

Chapter Twelve

THE DOCUMENTS IN MY HAND appear to be on fire and I drop them to the ground. Then, I feel my whole being slump slowly and end up sitting on the floor in the middle of my father's office with the worst dread churning in my stomach.

For several minutes I stare at my father's photo while my head is scrambling for understanding and then I open the second passport.

I pray it is not my mother's.

It is my mother's.

With my knees up to my chin, I rock back and forth while studying the photos of my young looking parents in the foreign passports.

I pick myself up off the floor, and walk backwards, still staring at the open passports in my hands until I have immersed myself back in my father's chair. Something is terribly wrong. I know it. An icy pain snakes down my spine. Not only are the passports Russian the names of my parents are also Russian.

My mother's passport says she is Mila Katya Mischa CTEIIHKOB

My father's passport reads Alek Dimochka Karol CTEIIHKOB

What the hell does all this mean?

What the hell are they doing here? Hidden?

Who really are...were... my parents?

Hoping the contents in the envelope can shed some light, I open it. It's a document written in Russian but I don't need an interpreter to know what it says. There is a photo of a baby and I can immediately see it is not me, because her birthdate is almost a year before I was born. She is Anya Sashenka CTEIIHKOB

To say I'm in shock is a complete understatement. My body feels it is in freefall and I shake uncontrollably. I try to make sense of this discovery over the next half hour as I sit motionless staring at the faces of my young parents and a baby. My head is cluttered:

My. Parents. Were. Russian.

I. Had. A. Sister...or...

Maybe I still have a sister?

What on earth does all of this mean?

Half an hour later, I seem to find some sort of presence of mind. I want to go home. I want to leave this place, get back to the safety of my old apartment, Athena's apartment.

I don't want to be Red Picasso anymore.

I am not a warrior. I am not a person capable of taking no prisoners.

I am, in fact, a spineless stupid bitch who just wants to ignore she found out a reason which may have got her parents murdered.

I'm annoyed I feel like this...completely and utterly gutted with sorrow and helplessness. The only thing going around in my head is I want to go home. I scrub at my face trying to stem back the flood of salty tears. I want to go home but I am so fucking out of my head right now, I couldn't drive if my life depended on it. So here I have to stay until I have control of my faculties.

* * *

Although I want to go back to Athena's apartment I don't. I go back to Red's apartment.

When I arrive and open up my door, I yell out loud, 'For fuck's sake. I'm making the distinction by calling this apartment Red's home and my real apartment Athena's!' Floppy appears from nowhere, races around the apartment growling and yapping. She only stops when I yell, 'Floppy. Stop.' She screeches to a halt in front of me and flops down resting her nose on my shoes. I squiggle out from under her and pace backwards and forwards around the apartment in a temper. Floppy takes off and cowers in my bedroom and won't come out until I eventually stop stomping and collapse into my couch.